


Temple of Thought

by Zinae



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: #VABB, All the pain I am so sorry..., Angst, ConfusedAF!Lotor, Friendship is magic my ass, GoodGuy!Lotor, I had to google spacey pick up lines and now I suffer... Some were pretty sweet?, Lance and pickup lines ISWEAR TO GOD, Lance can't draw to save his life, Lance is ridiculous, Lancelot - Freeform, Lotor sucks at flirting, M/M, Mentions of Violence, OCs - Freeform, OOC, Pining Lance (Voltron), also constant changing of POV, awful poetry, awkward idiots, courting, i am honestly sorry, if I messed up the tenses AGAIN, man-eating flowers, soulmate!AU, toothrotting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinae/pseuds/Zinae
Summary: (A soulmate is like a best friend but more.It's that one person that knows you better than anyone else.Someone who makes you a better person, actually..they don't make you a better person, you do that yourself. They inspire you.A soulmate is someone who you carry with you forever.The person who knew you and accepted you, before anyone else did.Or when no one else would.And no matter what happens, you will always love them. And nothing could ever change that.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is originally for my Voltron Amino big Bang but it kinda... drowned and I still wanna share this so here^^

**Show Me This Life**

 

_ We will start with kindness. _

_ They are sitting back to back in the darkness, dark clad fingers on a trigger, broken sobs on thin shoulders and a soft, gentle, shattered voice echoing off painted walls and the purple waves of a pond some few inches away from their feet. _

_ Somewhere out there there is the sound of fighting, cries for friends. _

_ In the cave there is just breathing and quiet. _

_ Not much to say, little to comment on and one of them was long since out of pick-up lines. _

_ This was war and they were on opposite sides. _

_ That didn't make the yearning and pain any easier, it didn't erase those few weeks of kindness and hope and love and light. _

_ It didn't undo the growth of a bond and the pictures on their arms, even though they had kept them as bare as possible in those last years. _

_ This was war and it broke people. _

_ And these two souls were waiting for the last drop to fall, the last thread to tear and the last scream to leave the last soldier. _

_ Because even after all this time they were still in love. _

_ (A lover, a friend, a rival, an enemy. Soulmates are not always one thing. It could be a lot and the bond just a guideline but romance and love never really go by rules and after all this time they still struggle to comprehend just what they are. Lance whispers lovers. Lotor screams lovers. _

_ The world tells them “Enemies”.) _

 

_ (A soulmate is like a best friend but more. _

_ It's that one person that knows you better than anyone else. _

_ Someone who makes you a better person, actually..they don't make you a better person, you do that yourself. They inspire you. _

_ A soulmate is someone who you carry with you forever. _

_ The person who knew you and accepted you, before anyone else did. _

_ Or when no one else would. _

_ And no matter what happens, you will always love them. And nothing could ever change that.[1]) _

 

 

_ **[1] Dawsons Creek season finale** _


	2. Running out of time

**Running Out of Time**

 

We might want to start at the beginning with this.

Unlike the title we actually have the time and you might want to know the whole story and not just all those bits and pieces that we usually witness.

Maybe we will start with Lance

Lance has always been a loving child. Loud, yes, flirty, absolutely.

Terrible at it?

No comment. He was.

He still is.

But he is a kind person and his heart far too big for him.

And the day those small doodles appeared on his arms and his parents explained to him that this person would be the best thing that could ever happen to him?

Lance fell in love for the first time.

He never understood the small pictures, although sometimes they reminded him of his own doodles of funny animals he drew on his assignments.

Some days he was covered in bruises and cuts, one time he could have sworn that his soulmate had a tattoo, but those marks faded fast and he still cherished them, when he could. He kissed them like his mother taught him over the cries of his siblings and their arguing, imagining that it was him who healed all those wounds. He wondered why his soulmate got hurt so much, but he never asked.

Because as much as he loved his other half, he just as much understood privacy. He didn't have any here, so....

Yeah.

He loved his siblings, but sometimes even Lance needed some kind of resemblance of quiet.

 

But he always, always answered. He covered all bruises with flowers, random squiggles drawn in absurdly colourful patterns, with whatever sharpie he could find. He doodled on his skin like an artist would paint his canvas, his chest, his legs, his arms.

He covered every inch that looked hurt and sometimes he tried drawing something else, something real, but his dogs looked like cucumbers with legs and his humans were weird aliens with heads too big and hands too small and Torsos like Superman.

He gave up early trying to draw himself.

Lance just could not draw to save his life.

His soulmate was even worse.

Once there was some kind of caricature of a spaceship, at least Lance thought that this was a spaceship, all over his arm. Sometimes there were weird pictures of batlike people, sometimes flowers. The flowers were pretty.

At some point Lance started answering some drawings with drawings.

He answered a doodle of a flower with a flower, adding a heart whenever he got brave enough.

And maybe their conversations got weird, with them misunderstanding everything, but Lance had fun and that was all that ever mattered to him.

Because he never stopped.

 

Not even in the Garrison, where he got weird looks because he was covered in ink regularly.

Hunk asked once.

Lance explained.

Hunk just laughed at him and Pidge, small, weird Pidge, just drew a dick pic on his arm, laughing like the evil goblin that he was.

Lance may have shrieked like a girl and tried to cover it up but the damage had been done.

His soulmate probably thought that he was a freak or something...

Well, at least there were less and less bruises and cuts.

That is, until they were in the shower one day and Lance heard Hunk curse.

To be honest, both Pidge, who absolutely refused to shower with everyone present, and Lance had never heard Hunk curse. Ever. EVER.

But this? Hunk blew up. He cursed and ranted, stared at Lance's back and Lance just... Did not understand.

What was going on?

Pidge ran in, fully clothed, with a camera in his hands and gaped.

And finally Lance got the answer for all those worried looks he got from his parents that he noticed but never questioned and Hunks rant.

“Lance? I think your soulmate needs help. Your back... Well, you should see for yourself...”

Pidge dragged Lance to one of the mirrors in the bathroom and turned him around and no one dared to question just where he got that small mirror from.

Because they were all busy staring at an absolutely furious Lance, who carefully traced the faint wounds on his back.

 

(Later, when Hunk was sleeping and Pidge gone to his room, when he had calmed down enough, he sneaked into the bathroom, and desperately tried to drown the lines in ink.

He wrote reassurances on his arms and promises.

And he went back to sleep, when the sun was already rising, with a quiet whisper of “I will find you. And then I will save and protect you. I swear.”)

 

(Later, in space, leaning against his lion, Lance wondered if his soulmate was an alien. He wondered what they were like, how they looked. He prayed that they were still alive every day and he sometimes wrote “Wait for me.” on the inside of his wrist.

And sometimes he gave up.)


	3. Morning Tide

**Morning Tide**

  
  


Well, our actual story begins with a drenched Shiro and a small group of desperate Paladins trudging through a swamp and Lance complaining the whole way.

The weather was... nice. They couldn't see much of the sun because of all the trees and other funny plants around them, and maybe all those weird purple fumes were not helping either, but they felt the heat.

Their skin was itching, they were all tired and hungry. And they were all worried beyond hope because just hours before they had witnessed the castle crashing onto a foreign planet.

Their own lions had stopped working once they had entered the atmosphere, just like the spaceships of the Galra they had been fighting.

(And wasn't that a crash they just wanted to forget. Miraculously they all survived and there were no big injuries, just one or two scratches, maybe a cracked rib at worst.)

And now they were walking in the general direction of the castle, weapons ready, and cranky as hell.

Lance switched to spanish at some point, quietly cursing the planet and... pretty much everything.

Hunk whined the whole way, panicking and spouting one worst case scenario after the other, his hands a flurry of motion and his face so very alive that no one really had the heart to tell him to shut up.

When the shades changed from purple to glorious golden hue, they looked up and well.

Speechless was an understatement.

Pidge maybe gasped.

Shiro stared.

Because this castle was... beautiful didn't even come close.

(The colours reminded Lance of watercolour. The mist merged its thousands shades into flowers of magic and hope, clouds of purple, streaks of gold, sparks of blue and green and the rare red flower peeking through the water of the swamp.

It was strange to see pink and indigo grass and scarlet trees with fruit that sort of reminded him of the berries in Pokemon.

He barely recognized a path through the mist, winding towards the castle in almost ridiculous way.)

Tall towers, an idyllic little town,golden, golden light and the visible rays of the sun peeking through fluffy clouds, alive and gorgeous and only destroyed by the gigantic black cloud of smoke a few metres away.

That would be the castle of lions.

The team started running almost instantly, screaming Alluras name, until their voices merged into one big choir of pain and worry and even more anger.

“If anything happened to Allura, I will find and destroy every single Galra in this universe...”, Keith growled, as they finally ran up to the damaged castle and started pulling, pushing, forcing the doors open.

“Paladins, we are safe.”

That would be Allura. Behind them.

Coran too.

Okay.

Pidge sobbed in relief, Hunk burst into tears and Keith and Shiro let out the breath they did not know they were holding. Lance just stared, stepped forward and pulled them into a hug.

They all ignored the group of aliens standing behind them, until one of them cleared their throat and spoke up, “Visitors, may I welcome you on our planet? I apologize for the... rude first impression, but your fight with our trading allies was destroying our forests and I won't stand for unnecessary violence.”

They whirled around and stared.

That was a very big hood and very big eyes.

And holy shit, they were beautiful.

Every Alien reminded them of a paradise bird, an exotic mix of colours and feathers, long wings, longer legs, myriads of shades and eyes.

The alien in the hood was standing in the front, the claws on their wings clutched around a staff and feathers of crimson, ruby, scarlet, wine, with accents of oil like dark rainbows on the inside. And when they took off the hood?

Maybe this is what a humanized phoenix looked like.

(Obsidian, wine, scarlet, ruby, crimson.)

They carried themselves with Alluras elegance, but there was a certain mischievous glint in their eyes as they inspected the Paladins and their friends.

(Alluras mice crawled out from under her hair and into Lances hands. He just clutched them close to his chest while he stared at the alien and their arms. When he saw nothing, he visibly deflated and stepped back. The others just watched him, because certainly there was a pick-up line coming...

Nothing.)

“I am Queen and High Priest of Ashura, it is a pleasure to meet you... Paladins.”, her eyes turned soft, “I have read a lot about you. Your adventures are also quite the entertainment at the dinner table. But please, follow us, you might wish to get out of your armour and eat. Afterwards we will discuss the repairs of your ship and those lions you came in. But...” She send them a look over her shoulder, “Remember one rule on this planet. We have no violence here and if you attack your fellow visitors, I will not be happy. Our Lady will interfere herself and you will not wish her to do so... again.”

“Who is this lady?”, Alluras question was careful.

Laughter echoed off the walls, bounced around one or two times and came back, washed over them like a song, “You are walking on her.”

“Its the planet.”, Pidge translated when the others just shared a confused glance.

They followed the group of aliens, Lance finally got over his shock and spouted one bad pick-up line after the other, Shiro quietly conversed about the Galra and their stand in the war.

_ (Are you the moon? Because even when it’s dark you still seem to shine.) _

“They trade with us and their prince leaves us alone for the most part. He respects our laws.”

Allura seemed to finally have found someone to talk to, Pidge and Hunk grilled the locals about technology and food.

Hunk pretty much got invited to help with dinner if he wished just to shut him up.

He accepted.

Keith sulked because he couldn't use his Bayard at all.

_ (No violence means no weapons, young paladin, _ the queen laughed,  _ You don't need it anyway.) _

 

Hell pretty much broke loose when they arrived at the palace.

One: What they thought was white stone was actually white bark.

And how the actual quiznak did a tree grow into a enormous castle.

(Pidge asked. Apparently this was not one but a group of trees, growing together into a circle and living with the people living inside. Also apparently those trees were fireproof but needed water like nobody's business, so that's why they lived in the marches and pretty close to the ocean. Lance almost broke his neck with the speed with which he looked up at the word  _ ocean _ .)

Two: The other visitors were the Galra. To be specific, the galran Prince, one of his Generals and some minor minions.

If it wasn't for the queen, who stepped in between, the two groups probably wound have started tearing each other apart, weapons or not.

(Hunk had to visibly restrain Keith. Shiro couldn't activate his arm. Pidge just drily commented that their capacity of anger and despair was long used up and they just didn't give a quiznak anymore. Coran just sighed and looked his age for once.)

But like that? There were some scratches and the visitors finally understood what the queen meant with “The planet will interfere.” Two soldiers had actually managed to attack Allura, but they just... They were swallowed up by the earth before they got anywhere close to the princess.

 

And this is where the queen decided that introductions were in order.

“Paladins, may I introduce to you Prince Lotor of the Galran Empire and his General Ka'ain. They and their soldiers are the other visitors I mentioned. Their ship is just as damaged as yours and I extended the same offer to them as I did to you. They know our laws and swore to obey them, even though their discipline is... lacking. Please remember my warning. I will explain all the other rules at dinner tonight.”

“This is what happens when you crash-land on a planet that decided that technology doesn't need to work anymore.”, the General commented with a grin, waving with one arm... of four.

(Blue skin, red eyes, white hair. Prosthetic arm, prosthetic eye, both eyes candy red and glowing and Lance swore that a sniper, a real, human sniper was hanging off his shoulder. If it wasn't for them being enemies, he would have loved to learn ho to use this beauty. But as it was, he stared at the prince, because heavens, he was pretty. As in, wow. He so needed tips. How was his hair this shiny???)

The queen turned to Lotor and gave him something like a smile, as far as her beak allowed, “Highness, these are the Paladins of Voltron. I know that this situation is quite unusual but please don't forget your place and treat them with the same respect that they owe you. I have not heard their names yet, but I would like to introduce Princess Allura of Altea and Lord Coran to you. Please get along.”

They weren't.

You could probably cut the tension with a sword if you tried, Allura staring at Lotor with so much hatred that everyone just waited for him to burst into flames.

Lotor just watched her with something like mild interest.

The general though....

ADHD was an understatement. The second the Paladins mutter-growled out their names he launched forward, grabbed their hands, shook them and then proceeded to babble and bounce around his prince, who just made a resigned face and forced a smile.

Alluras smile was feral in return, more a warning than a welcome.

In a nutshell, it was awkward and they all just wanted to leave.

 

Dinner was even worse.

The last time there had been this much glaring at a table was when Lance had accidentally shrunk Keith's clothes while washing them and refused to apologize for weeks.

Or that one time they had started another competition during training and ended up sabotaging everyone... Again, refusing to apologize because “Well don't get in our way!”

(Lance pouted for weeks and Pidge stole all his face products to get at least some kind of revenge. It ended up in a prank war, a completely obliterated Lance, Keith locking himself in the training room and Hunk organizing a funeral for the kitchen. Also a week of cryopod for Coran to calm him down from the shock of the loss of his moustache.

No one mentioned those days ever again.)

You could clearly see the two groups, Paladins on the left, Galra on the right and a court of awkward royals in between. The Queen apparently didn't care and calmly conversed with the people closest to her, explaining table manners and listening to the paladins adventures, as told by an overenthusiastic Lance.

The Paladins hat changed into local clothes, since their armour was all but comfortable, covered in mud, blood and oil and they had to look presentable. And apparently the locals had Alluras sense of style, since they pretty much stuck to the colour scheme. What was actually different was the part that the boys were wearing pretty much some kind of harem pants and some kind of thin shirt with almost see-through material for sleeves, that reminded the humans of some kind of Aladdin cosplay.

(Pidge had screamed and raved until they got permission to wear their own clothes. For obvious reasons.)

The galra had apparently been better prepared and were wearing their usual clothes. Only clean.

“So here I stand, pirates in front of me, my trusted companions behind me, we are surrounded and everything looks hopeless.”, Lance's hands were animated, alive, drawing patterns and artworks into the air, eyes glowing, voice boisterous, loud, but perfectly even and golden with words, “Hunk still has his Bayard, Keith is clutching onto his and Shiro's hand is glowing purple in the dark, we can barely see and the Pidge saves the day. 'Lance! Up there!', they scream and I look up and there is the perfect place for me to shoot, so Pidge just takes their grappling hook, gets me up there and I positively destroy the enemies! Later Hunk finally found a way to get the materials we were looking for and don't ask me how, he is genius like that, and this is how we kicked pirate ass and saved the day!”

(The only reason the tale turned out reasonable was because the whole time, Allura had been carrying a knife in her hand. And dull or nor, an armed Allura was always scary. He loved this woman, really, but sometimes he quietly complained to Hunk that all the women in his life were terrifying. First his mother and sisters, then Pidge, Nyma, Allura. Just give him a break.)

He pushed his fist into the air and grinned, meeting the royals eyes, who were pretty much hanging onto his every word. His sleeve fell down and revealed a funny pattern of drawings and doodles.

(Flowery, colourful, gentle, circling around small bruises and long faded flower-answers of his soulmate. Blue, starlike patterns, yellow suns, green paw prints, happily trailing up his arm and changing into some kind of resemblance of a winking cat face.)

 

When a chair crashed down and they all looked up, Lotor was long gone and his general was just leaving, calling for his prince and looking back for just a second.

His eyes met Lance's.

And then he just smiled. And ran.


	4. The Distance

**The Distance**

 

If anyone ever asked Lotor whether he knew what the strange marks appearing and disappearing on his skin were, he would have either destroyed your life or just stayed quiet, depending on his mood.

Of course he knew.

His mother had told him about soulmates, back when he had been just a child and when there had been no duties, no rebellions and no pain. She had told him about meeting his father, about colours blooming when they touched, of watching a dear friend of her meeting her soulmate.

(She told him of sacrifice and politics later and soon Lotor realized that no matter who his soulmate was, he would never have them. And when the first punishment and his real training to become the perfect heir started, he closed off his heart. He build the very first wall.

It was torn down the second he woke up screaming and noticed his skin covered in ink and abysmal drawings, some looking like writing. It was comfort and it was a life he wanted to find and cherish.

His home had become so very cold a long time ago, the day the expectations waltzed into his life and killed the warmth.

That night he cried, hidden under blankets and pillows, the light of a lonely lamp barely finding its way through the fabric and painting small flecks of light purple on his skin.)

Of course he knew.

That's why he was so very desperate to get away.

This was not good, this was awful and really just the fates being their usual cruel self.

(He had a sunlight smile.)

_ Of course _ his soulmate turned out to be his enemy.

A clawed hand grabbed his shoulder and suddenly he was whirled around and pressed into a cool body.

“It's alright, Highness, it's alright. We will figure this out and I promise, if those idiot so much as mutter a word to your mother, I will personally kill them. It's alright.”

“So you noticed?”

“Yes. That kid draws quite the attention to himself, so yes, I saw the marks.”, a sigh above him, cold metal against his shoulder, pushing into his arm.

(Lotor wondered how their skin would look next to each other, their hands intertwined. He wondered if The blue boy was warm or cold, soft or rough.)

His face is probably an embarrassing shade of fuchsia, but Ka'ain never minded the close contact, so they stayed like that for a second, until the blue skinned male let go of him and pulled him aside, “Now, what will you do?”

“Depending on the bond? Either kill him or... nothing.”

“Nothing.”, a white eyebrow wandered into snowy hair, “Nothing. Forgive me for my... language, sir, but are you nuts? This person might be pretty much everything you ever needed and you are going to do nothing?”

“I don't know him!”, Lotor hissed, “He is my enemy, in case you haven't noticed and while we have to play nice here, up there is a war. We will have to fight and you know me well enough by now. You know that I won't be able to fight if I so much as think about forming any kind of feelings for him.”

Ka'ain stayed quiet, his red eye sad, arms, all four of them, wrapped around his middle, “This is so wrong... these bonds are so rare in our culture and your kind treats them like something given and you all just trample over them. Fine.” he sighed again, “Just... I just want to give you some kind of advice on this: Here? You can't run. We will see the daily, you will have to interact, hat's how politics and this culture works. You know that, sir. So you better be sure, just what kind of soulmate this boy is going to be. What do you need from him? Lover, friend? Rival? Enemy? Decide soon. “

“I know”, a whisper barely heard, voice dark.

(His eyes sparkle like the stars, whenever there is no light in his room but a single magical glow of a lamp, eternal light so far away and yet he wants to reach out and grab it.

Sometimes he sees the patterns on his skin in the patterns out there.)

 

(Maybe he already had made his choice.)

 

The next few days Lotor just watched in the shadows and stayed as far from the paladins as possible.

The queen told him soon that the repairs would take a while.

He nodded in understanding and ignored her knowing smile, when his eyes fell on the blue Paladin walking in the gardens below, running around his smallest teammate and occasionally hugging them until the small creature shrieked and hit him with whatever hard object they could find.

(Somewhere further away the altean princess was patiently teaching the black and yellow paladins how to make flower crowns.

The red one had found the training grounds and just... moved there.)

“Forgive me my curiosity, but do you wish for me to help you find Hopeflowers? I believe we still have some of them in one of the outer greenhouses.”

Lotor sputtered and stared at the birdlike creature, who was smirking.

Totally smirking.

(With a beak. How did that even work?)

“Why do you ask? This is...”

Her smile widened, “Young Lance is your destined chosen after all. Do you not wish to court him?”

“No!”, this was probably even more embarrassing that Ka'ain's talk. At least that guy knew not to push but he knew this woman. She had absolute power on the planet, hence why they had to establish a trading contract. They stood no chance in invading a planet that fought back with everything it had.

(The bluish light reflected on his hair in waves, his laughter reminded him of carefree childhood days and bittersweet gentleness in his hands. Again he wondered what his name would sound like with his voice, whether he would or even could look at him and see a person behind the war and behind his title.)

“Not? How tragic. You would look quite good together. He is a powerful individual and you might need his light in your life, highness.”, feathers caressed his cheek when she turned around and she shot him a look over her shoulder, “Are you sure you want to let him go? You haven't stopped looking at him ever since he entered the garden, after all.”

Lotor stayed quiet, and watched his general approaching the red Paladin and the dance they fell into.

(He remembered days of hiding in the shadows, watching Ka'ain, as he sparred with his father, watching him win and pay for it with dark blue pain blooming on his back, but smiling and proud. He remembered days of training under the man, fast steps, flowing movements, a sword reflecting the lights around them. He remembered the day Ka'ain swore his allegiance to him and Lotor standing up to his parents and promoting him to General, because this man was his friend, his very own friend, brilliant and strong and loyal. He remembered listening to stories about deserts, whispered while waiting for their targets to appear, the fire reflecting in red eyes and dying white hair golden. He remembered and wondered how the last survivor of a long dead planet managed to still smile like that and keep moving forward, while he was still stuck in place and he admired the man, who had raised him to feel and think for himself. Of course he had learned more than that, but he also learned about diplomacy and prejudices and manipulation. But nothing had ever prepared him for this. )

His eyes followed a boy clad in blue and wandered over thin shoulders and painted brown, knowing that the exact same colours were wrapping themselves around his shoulders, hidden under black fabric.

(Admiration was a tricky emotion, but even though he was thin, Lotor clearly saw the power hidden in his elegance.

Until the blue paladin stumbled and fell on his face, his companion laughing at his misery and him joining them soon.)

 

If someone asked, he never yelped when he ran against someone and fell back on his ass.

Lotor almost cursed, rubbing his posterior and looking up to snap at the person before him.

His mood was bad enough and now he was late for the meeting with his group of idiots.

The least this insolent...

Oh.

Blue, wide eyes were staring into his and he faintly recognized the dark skin and even darker hair.

(It looked so very soft, he could just reach out and touch it, but no. Not now, not ever.)

“Sorry, Your Highness,”, his voice was dripping with sarcasm at the title, but at least the apology sounded somewhat sincere.

(He was warm.)

Hands gripped his arms and suddenly Lotor was standing and being looked over, let go, and within seconds alone in the corridor.

(The smell of flowers and salt, warm skin, an amused “See you at dinner, Your Highness.”

His voice was beautiful.

He had made his choice.)

Lotor is still standing there until he has finally gathered his thoughts enough to realize just how late he was. Just as fast came the realization that he was the prince and the highest in the current chain of command so he maybe, really had no need to rush like that.

In the back of his mind something whispered about greenhouses and hope.

 

His eyes started following every shade of blue he encountered, something sparkled golden, he looked up.

Laughter made the corner of his mouth turn up for the fraction of a second.

And yet he stayed away.

According to Ka'ain, this whole mess was “Completely dumb” and he should “Already grab this kid and drag him off into a corner, for Fate's sake.” But Ka'ain also believed that yellow looked good with pink, so...

Lotor was standing n front of a mirror and staring at his reflection, ignoring the snickers behind him more out of habit than anything.

“This is beauty, sir, heavens...”, Ka'ain almost choked on air, when he read the next page, “please, I beg you, redo the reports, before you hand them in. This is hilarious....”

“Is something wrong with my reports, General?”

“No. But the writing around it.  _ Flowers are red, I think this is dead, I think you are my sun, please run. _ ? Sir, is this  _ poetry???? _ ”, and then there was laughter. Some rolling around, some coughing, because air and laughter never got along.

Oh and lots of fuchsia on purple skin.

“Please burn everything and we will never speak of this ever again...”, he mumbled, while sitting down in front of his friend and letting him braid his hair.

“Never, sir. While I maybe won't tell the girls about this mess, I will cherish the memory of my prince trying to write poetry. Also, please straighten your shirt. And you probably don't want me saying anything about your flowers trying to eat your... And now you have to rewrite the report anyway.”

Lotor hid his face in his hands the second he was allowed to move and just gave a long suffering, desperate sigh.

“Sometimes I really really regret saving you from my father, General.”

“You love me.”

“Quiznak off.”, a snort.

“Language sir!”

(Sometimes he hated and sometimes he was glad that this man was so brutally honest, because he needed to be reminded that he was not entirely broken. He would never regret saving Ka'ain. He would complain, but never regret.

His mind wandered to blue eyes and dark skin, a smile that he never got but oh so wanted to receive.

Knowing that he could never deny this smile.

He remembered the queens knowing smirk when he asked about the indigo flowers.)


	5. Skin

**Skin**

 

To explain the situation, the queen was quite the stubborn, sometimes childish character. Having her absolute power, she tended to get carried away with plans and shenanigans and that one scarlet afternoon spend in the presence of a man in blue and red and white, talking about gentle boys and the hidden emotions of a prince, interactions that should have happened but never did.

They planned.

Oh they planned.

The queen had a role to play, but sometimes her kindness was cruel and her good intentions formed the bricks for a gorgeous road to hell.

So this is why we find Lance staring at the prince, who looks absolutely radiant and in his element, smiling among guests on a party. This is why we find Lance staring at purple skin and the soft curls of summernightblue reaching up a slender throat and sharp jaw.

To be precise, the very same pattern glowing on his very own throat and arms.

(That was not quite enough, because, holy quiznak, Lotor was wearing a tux. White shirt, first two buttons open, the same summernightblue as the paint, with white designs on the collar. He was standing there, back straight, mouth turned up into a resemblance of a smile. Glowing in a way and why had Lance never realized just how gorgeous he was?

Lance wanted the smile to reach his eyes and where did that thought come from...

Oh who was he kidding, he was in shock and  _ how was he gong to explain this to his friends? _

Because this was his soulmate and holy quiznak, he was gorgeous and maybe his and maybe, just maybe, he wanted even those few weeks they could have.

He has looked for so long and here he was, his enemy. His god damned enemy and  _ Lance didn't care this was his soulmate ohmygoohmygodohmygod. _ )

He almost fainted.

Almost.

Instead he watched for once, let that one little drop of adoration (perfect, absolute, bus small, so very very small and still so very, very powerful...) grow into a full grown infatuation, obsession.

(“It's far too early for love...”, he whispered and his heart screamed at him.)

Instead he walked forward and carefully reached out.

“Care for a dance, Highness?”

He smiled.

He tried to behave, but this might all be his and he would always belong to this gorgeous man if he ever decided to accept him.

( “It's too early for love...”, his mind growled and his heart remembered.

He had always fallen fast and deep.)

Lotor just stared at him and his smile almost broke apart because  _ why would he want to dance with him. _

And then there was the faintest breath of a “yes” and he glowed, Lance literally bursts into the happiest smile he could muster and maybe there was something in Lotor’s gaze that he maybe felt hidden away in his heart.

Their hands didn't touch, they were both wearing gloves.

(Lily white. Lance looked good in white and blue, the fabric felt nice around his shoulders. He felt free.

His heart soared.

His heart sang and his mind hushed it and he almost stopped breathing because heavens this was too much.

How did his parents not die when they met?)

White hair tickled his nose, that one strand stubbornly in front of Lotor’s face, the rest braided and pulled up. Lance revelled in the fact that he was taller and he gladly pulled Lotor into a waltz, hushed voice explaining steps and watching the others face for any kind of discomfort, maybe staring at the paint almost hidden by the collar.

Music changed and they soon changed partners but somehow they found each other again.

Although Lance would have paid anyone to spare him that one dance with Keith.

That was awkward and weird.

Keith kept staring at his feet and it would have been adorable... But Keith.

Well at least Lance now had something to hold over Keith's head.

He was the better dancer.

Later Hunk dragged him aside and just stared, waiting for something and Lance just had to tell him, consequences be damned.

“He is my soulmate, Hunk and did you see him? He is so pretty and his hair and holy quiznak that smile and he danced with me!!!!”

He was totally blushing.

Hunk was still processing, then it clicked and then...

“Wait wait wait wait wait, Lotor? Prince of the galran empire Lotor? That guy Lotor??? The “I just want to hug his hair, it looks so soft”-Lotor?  _ Lance, he is our enemy what the heck. _ ”, panic.

Lance still beamed at him, “I know! But...”, he visibly deflated and suddenly there was warmth in his eyes, so much warmth and something close to adoration, “He is mine and I still... I promised to myself that I would love him. That I would protect him. Hunk, I... I don't think I can hurt him.”

“Will you tell the others?”

“I have to. They have to know... Well, that will suck...”, he sighed, hands clawing at the material of his pants, fingers drawing circles on his leg, shuffling feet and for just a second, there was so much pain in his face.

Hunk pulled him into a hug, big arms around thin shoulders and the warmth of a friend, “Hey, I don't have to like this, but I will support you. I will remind you that he is our enemy, I will cry and worry and panic, but I will support you. Maybe... Well, we are stuck here, so maybe you can just... get to know him?”

“Good plan, Hunk. And maybe I will just... not tell the others until I'm sure of everything? Is that okay?”

“I won't promise that I won't slip...”, Hunks face turned into a grimace and then he gave his friend a wry smile, “But I will try to be quiet.”

(Lance buried his face in the broad chest and ignored the worried voice of reason in the back of his head and just felt.

His mind wandered to sunlike eyes and warmth, gentle steps and curious glances hidden behind white hair.

His heart reached out and he prayed that his soulmate would take his hand one day.)

 

They traded glances, accidentally bumped into each other in corridors, there were so many smiles, awkward, careful, exchanged and one day, Lance woke up to frantic pounding on his door.

When he finally managed to somehow free himself from the sheets and pulled on some clothes, he opened the door and was suddenly met with gorgeous flowers the colour of the sky at home, when the sun had almost set and there was no more fire red and golden yellow left, just a deep purple and the faintest last rays of light.

He couldn't help but smile, but suddenly the vase was being thrust in his hands and the servant ran off.

Lance could have sworn that he looked as scared as Lance felt that one time he found a spider on his toilet seat.

(That thing had been gigantic and he still shuddered at the memory. Also, he still told everyone that it had been as big as Hunks hand and poisonous. If anyone ever asked.)

Shrugging he carried the flowers into the room, put it on the table and sat in front of it, marvelling at the delicate petals (The colour of enzian and the look of sunflowers, pretty like a song, he mused.)

A small card was sticking in between the flowers and he carefully fished it out, opening it and then? Lance just blushed. And laughed.

He laughed so hard because heavens this was beautiful. Awful, but adorable and beautiful in the same way a child's smile might light up the whole room.

 

_ Your voice is my sun _

_ Your skin is my light _

_ Your smile is my hope _

_ Your eyes are my doom _

 

_ I want us to run _

_ I want us to hide _

_ I want us to leave _

_ leave ev’rything behind. _

 

_ Your hand is my anchor _

_ Your paintings my life _

_ Your words take me high _

_ Your tears drag me down. _

 

Crying and laughing at the same time was hard. So maybe we could use that to justify just how Lance managed to overlook the flowers growing rapidly. And gaining teeth. Several rows of them actually.

So when he finally noticed the looming shadow and looked up, we might actually understand why exactly he just stared for a few minutes.

Or seconds. Semantics.

But yeah, he screamed.

Because apparently his flowers thought that he was a really tasty snack and that they were hungry right now.

So yes, he screamed alright.

The next half an hour was a mess of chaos and a lot of cursing and Keith burning the flowers down with a candle. A. Candle.

Lance was crying in a corner, murmuring “He hates me. My soulmate hates me...” and Hunk hugging the life out of him, muttering death threats and torture plans under his breath.

Lotor was very proud of himself that he had successfully send his first courting gift to his chosen.

Ka'ain was watching all of this and dying of laughter, while simultaneously trying to explain it to the young princess who was a firework of fury and doom. He was smart enough to leave the soulmate bond out of this.

All in all, it was eventful, glorious and Shiro totally got drunk afterwards.

 

When Lotor heard about that disaster, he almost cried. Almost.

Instead, he decided that he needed help and maybe man-eating flowers were a bad idea...

His general had warned him that not all races had the same courting rituals.

Ka'ains own kind pretty much just went with the “You're pretty, marry me” attitude, since they had quite the short life and that man still didn't understand most of the waiting games going on in other cultures.

So... how was he supposed to court a human?

Asking another human might be a good idea, but the humans around his soulmate were furious and he really didn't want to cross him. The small green one looked like they could tear his head off. With their teeth.

He could take the tiny thing, but better safe than sorry.

 

If anyone asked, Lotor barely got away with his life because he angered a bunch of dragons.

Not a small child and their very build and surprisingly strong friend. His nose hurt from the punch he got from the yellow Paladin and his ears still rang from the very high screeches and insults that got thrown at him.

BUT he had answers. Apparently if you want to court a human, you don't send them plants that could kill them.

He needed normal, pretty flowers, maybe dinner, chocolate and many apologies. According to Hunk, who went into a rant, and later into threats.

Lotor really didn't want to know just where that cannon could be shoved up to.. Really.

Rude.

Well, he could salvage this.

First, he had to find out just what Lance liked.

And maybe he should turn right back and ask or just... Well, maybe a walk through the gardens with his fated might be a good idea…

He never asked, just how or why Hunk and Pidge knew about all of this.

 

Lance barely got away with his dignity.

Ka'ain's laughter was still ringing in his ears, hysteric and loud as hell, until the soldier just fell over and on his face. Still laughing and now almost dying from lack of air.

His face turned grey, that was interesting to know.

BUT now he had at least some understanding of galran culture.

And apparently those horrid flowers were some kind of first step of a courting ritual? And it was a good sign that Lance survived?

And now it was his turn to do something and it had to be special???

Hello???

Lotor’s general was not the most helpful. More like, Lance had to translate what he could from all the gasping and whining that sounded suspiciously like “This is beautiful and I am dying please can I keep you oh dear gods have mercy on me... I can't even... Too good... Two idiots in love, kill me now please...”

So right now Lance was looking for his soulmate.

(He was still not over it. His soulmate was so  _ close oh my god. _ )

Because a date had to happen like, yesterday and while he still had no idea what to do and… Well, asking couldn’t hurt. He would just find Lotor and maybe… ask. Good idea. 

But first… he had to find him. And get the courage to talk to him. Beyond those few stolen moments that is.

And later he had to talk to his friends.


	6. Temple of Thought

**Temple of Thought**

 

_ “One day, you will be someone’s knight, my little sun. One day, you will be someone’s very own little Lancelot. And they will be your Guinevere or your Arthur.” _

_ “Sí, abuela. I will protect them! I promise!” _

 

The second Lotor saw Lance, things just… happened.

(He may have fallen in love with that smile. Again.)

The blue Paladin literally started glowing when he noticed Lotor. 

(Maybe his heart stopped beating for a moment.)

“I’ve been looking for you! Do you have a moment… Highness?”, his blinding smile turned shy and gentle, somewhat strange and a little bit wary, “I just…”

“You can’t draw.”, that was not what Lotor had wanted to say, “I mean. I know that you are… my fated.”

Or something. 

Lance smiled again, “Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk about. Sooo… Do you have  minute?”

Lotor frowned, “What’s a minute?”

That was the most adorable blush he had ever witnessed. This was also very awkward.

“It’s a way to talk about time back on earth. I wanted to ask you if you’d like to… go on a walk with me? We might want to talk about… this.” Several gestures between them and blue eyes focusing on faint lines on purple skin. 

“I… yes. Please”, Lotor breathed out and reached out towards Lance, but stopped himself.

He didn’t have to wait for very long. There were thin fingers wrapping themselves around his wrist and suddenly they were running through corridors, colours, people merging into one big mass of speed and warmth and light. It was... nice.

And then they were in the gardens and the soft golden light pained precious freckles on Lance’s skin, illuminating his sparkling eyes. 

And they kind of just started talking.

And never really stopped.

They talked about small things at first, unsure whether mentioning the war was okay, or the lions, or their families.

(Lance could fill books with tales of his siblings alone, not to mention the rest of his family. He told him about that one cousin who had an obsession with dead things and was now studying to dig those things out and display them in buildings made for dead things. He told him about beauty regimes with his sister and mud fights with his youngest brother. He whispered stories about their grandmother and her magic tales and whose word was law and his mother, who was scary when mad but had the most beautiful voice ever. He gestured around and the shadows he cast were paintings of birds and adventures far smaller that this war but just as precious. Lotor listened and he listened and he stayed quiet, because he barely knew his parents beyond their official persona.)

They talked about favourite colours (When Lance told him of indigo oceans and bright summer skies, he only thought of the sapphire, cobalt, midnight hues in Lance’s eyes), favourite food (Lance missed Pizza and there was an unspoken promise to eat it together one day but they both knew that this was a promise meant to be broken. Lotor decided that maybe he could get Ka’ain into the kitchen to make them his very own favourite dessert. He wanted to share this. he wanted to share everything but there was the tiny, faded voice in the back of his head screaming at him. He ignored it.), favourite everything.

They didn’t touch, it was all far too early and strange and so very awkward. 

Somehow they still managed to keep a conversation going, with small moments of silence, until one of them thought of another question to ask.

And when Lance started laughing about the flower incident, Lotor just watched him with a soft smile and swore to himself, that he would keep this moment forever.

No matter what happened.

 

After this a dam broke somewhere.

Suddenly they were not just meeting everywhere, but almost always they left together.

And while the Paladins stayed vigilant and threatened Lotor with things far worse than death, it was Allura that scared the living shit out of him.

They were back from their walk through the village, Lance’s arms full of small trinkets, flowers and other strange things the children pretty much threw at him and he was glowing all over the place.

Lotor wished him a good night.

He left.

And two corridors later he was thrown against a wall.

Furious blue eyes boring into his very own and white hair falling into a pretty face, Allura reminded him of those ancient scrolls his mother had hidden away in the back of the library. She looked just like a goddess of war, graceful danger hidden behind a pretty face and gentle words.

Until she finally let her true colours shine. just like in that moment.

The hallway was quiet, the fires almost burnt down and the last remains of the light were flickering over her face.

“I may not show it, but that child is a member of my team, Prince Lotor. If you ever make him cry, I will burn your empire down just to get to you and tear you to pieces. You think we are bad now? Just watch me. I will protect my paladins.”

“And i will protect my fated, Princess” his voice is barely a whisper, his face turned to the side and looking down, “I won’t always be there for him. Out time is limited and we still have to talk about this, but i want to be with him for as long as possible. So what do you expect of me? My general is already reminding me of our positions and limits, do you want to start this as well? The go ahead. Take those few weeks from me. But you are also taking away the person Lance likes as well. And he pretty much already lost his family out here. I can’t… I will fight for him.”

His eyes flared up with something stubborn and determined, “i can promise you this.”

“We will watch you.”, her eyes softened, but there was something just as determined in her eyes, “I will watch you.”

she left and Lotor touched the place she had pushed against, praying that Lance would not notice the bruise the next day.

 

_ “Why would someone hurt my soulmate, Mamá?”, his voice sounds broken over the phone, “Why did you never tell me?” _

_ “I don’t know, my dear. If they are fated to take care of you, then they just have to be as sweet as you are. You were a child. We didn’t want you to be too worried.” _

_ “Do you think that I can save them?” _

_ “Yes, Lance. after all, i did name you after a knight.” _

 

Lance was dancing over the grass, the blue of his clothes almost the same shade as the grass, his arms colourful and perfect and he could only watch as the moonlight sparkled in his eyes and drowned his skin into an almost translucent shade of white gold.

Lotor could only watch from the sidelines, rooted into place and his mind whirling with every step his soulmate made.

(His beloved, his heart sang and for once he didn't shut it up. For once he thought the same and smiled.)

 

_ “Dad? What if I don’t find them?” _

_ “You will son. i know it. I found your mother after all and you are my kid. Just have patience and never stop fighting.” _

 

It was far too late but his heart burned in phantom pain and the desire to run. 

Lance was standing in front of Lotor’s door, hand in the air and his heart beating.

(Beating, beating, screaming against his ribcage and his face felt like he was on fire.)

He knocked. Something fell over on the other side of the door, there was cursing and then the door was open and Lotor staring at him.

(Hair all over the place, his night clothes all messed up and on the wrong side and why has he never been more beautiful?)

“Lance?”

“Lancelot.”, he blurted, “My name is Lancelot. Mamà named me after a knight. I… can I come in?”

Lotor seemed to look at him, over his tired eyes and trembling arms and cold lips.

He stepped aside, “Always. What is it?”

The cold was creeping up his skin but he fought his shivers until there was a warm hand on his arm and careful fingers dancing over his hair. Until there was suddenly a blanket draped over his shoulders and another body pressed against his.

He couldn’t talk.

But this felt nice and for the very first time that night he relaxed and almost melted into the touch.

They fell asleep in silence, soft light casting paintings over their arms and intertwined hands, bathing them in its kind, pale light. Lance buried his face into a purple shoulder and sighed, feeling the soft ghost of a whisper above his head.

He never found out what Lotor had said, but they didn't remember it anyway.

 

_ “Good night, my sun.” _

  
  


_ “Sis?” _

_ “You look like shit. Get over here and let me do this.” her hands are soft, she is chuckling, “How are you supposed to meet your soulmate if you look like Gwen using you as her canvas? Oh dear.” _

_ “She did use me as her canvas. But, hey, tiny me is getting better.”, he is laughing, “But she will never top my perfect picassos.” _

_ “Brother, dearest, i love you, but your drawings suck. How you pull off makeup, i will never know.” _

_ “I want to look perfect for them.” _

_ “I know. I taught you.” _

 

It was a night just like this, with thunder rolling across the sky and the childlike beat of the rain playing soft melodies on the windows, that they started teaching each other their language.

Or at least the alphabet.

And suddenly there were evenings filled with blue “good night”s and sunrises coloured in red “good morning”s. 

There were secret messages send over diplomatic dinners, jokes exchanged over awkward meetings that were so tense that at some point everyone just stopped going there.

And there were nights filled with a small voice begging another to “please don't tell the girls about this. Ezor will never let me live this down.” and laughter.

Some evenings were strange but kind of okay, because Lance lived for moments, minutes, hours, days with Lotor and finding out more about him.

(Falling deeper and deeper and deeper.)

But he also lived for his soulmate (HIS SOULMATE) interacting with his second family.

(Shiro may have adopted another socially awkward son. Who had a manipulative streak that was almost as bad as Pidge’s.)

He lived for Hunk talking about food to an overwhelmed prince, Pidge dragging them off to show off another robot they had build and Keith watching Lotor and Ka’ain train and learn.

And maybe he ignored the elephant in the room and maybe he ignored their time limit because for once he was happy.

He wanted this to last.

 

_ “Tell me about this person, Lance! Pleeease! Tell me a story about them!” _

_ “Alright, alright! Get under the covers, you little pest.” _

_ “Will you cuddle me?” _

_ “Of course, tiny. Lights out, now.” rustling and a small, glowing face staring up into smiling blue eyes, “So once upon a time there was a gorgeous knight looking for his beloved. they were told to be beautiful but no one had ever seen them, not even our knight. but he still loved them, no matter what, because they shared a connection…” _

 

“Hey, Lotor?”, Lance looked serious, his eyes tired and hand still in the air from knocking.

Lotor stepped aside to let him in and watched as Lance walked in, smiled, “Did something happen?”

“I just want to..talk. About...us.”, Lance held his breath for a second and then let out a shuddering sigh, “About what her Highness said today.”

Their ships were almost finished. 

And hadn't that been a punch in their faces, the reminder that this was not forever.

Lance choked, “I don't want to fight you. But you are still a heir to the galran throne and I am a paladin of Voltron but I want this to work. But your father will make you kill us if he wins and god knows what everyone will make us do if we win and I… I can't. I can't fight you. And it hurts and Allura told me I won't have to but what if I do??? What if I have to hurt you?!” Tears.

(Tears, tears, tears. Pain ripping through his chest, his heart his throat, words crawling out of his mouth, fear fear fear.)

Silence descended over them. Violet sunset light poured in through the balcony windows and how beautiful was this tragedy.

How desperate those eyes, filled with so much adoration.

Lotor wanted to reach out, grab this stupid boy and hold him close, tell him that he loved him.

(Craved him. Needed him.)

But that truth. It hurt. 

(Tore his soul apart and set his heart on fire.)

They both broke down. 

(Empty promises and last days spend acting like there was nothing wrong. Last nights and clinging onto each other, whispered, empty promises.)


	7. The Lie Eternal

**The Lie Eternal**

They stood in front of each other.

(I love you)

Their smiles were strained, their eyes almost empty and this whole goodbye felt like forever.

(I can’t do this.)

Alluras hands were on Lance’s shoulder, keeping him grounded, just like Hunks warm hand on the small of his back. 

(Burning heart, singing elegies and requiems, reaching for something he had to lock away.)

(Goodbyes and painful empty promises.)

“See you on the battlefield!”, Ka’ain bowed before them, “May we fight with honor and cross our blades with pride.”

Keith’s bow was somewhat awkward, but somehow dignified.

(Time spent talking under stars and about foreign constellations and surprisingly similar stories. Friendship built on fights and power, an exchange of knowledge and survival tricks.)

Lotor looked like the prince the was, soft swirls of colour spanning over his throat, the same painting carefully curling around Lance.

(One last connection.)

They didn’t talk.

They barely looked at each other.

(They boarded their ships and broke down the second they were out of each other’s sights. Tears streaming down heated cheeks and red rimmed eyes, hands grasping at hair, chest, scratching at their hearts and arms and stomachs, barely holding on in the arms of friends. This would take time. 

They were both a little bit broken and so very lonely.)

That night, Lance barely managed to grab his pen.

His letters were shaky and barely readable, but they were genuine and he had to.

(He had to. There was nothing else left but this.)

_I love you._

_Good Night._


	8. Kamikaze Love

**Kamikaze Love**

 

_ If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I'd have a galaxy in my hand. _

 

I will end this story with memories and heartbreak.

I will end it with hidden messages on dark and purple skin. 

With stolen moments and a future not meant to be.

 

I will give this story an ending it deserves.

 

They were running through streets like Venice and hid in corners darker than any slum, pressed against the narrow walls, lips barely touching.

Chuckling, smiling, hands intertwined, eyes lost. 

There was screaming around them, one, two explosions and they were laughing, Lotor’s face hidden in Lance's shoulder, trembling in laughter and hope.

Their friends were having fun being a distraction.

(“Take this, assholes!!” “Pidge, Language!” “Guys, I found another batch of idiots!!!” “BURN THEM WITH FIRE!!!”)

They kissed and ran again, met once, twice, thrice again, always hidden and somewhat happy.

Lost moments in between.

  
  


_ Are you the moon? Because even when it’s dark you still seem to shine. _

 

He began with soft “Good morning”s again. 

He began telling him about his day, dumb jokes about his teammates and asking about anything but the war.

It was a unspoken rule to only talk about each other.

To steal every moment they could.

To run away sometimes and meet up in hidden corners of run down planets, in shady alleys and even worse bars.

To send awful small doodles and so many words, dripping with affection and cheesy pick up lines.

 

One day they met up on a market and it was a cheesy date with awful jokes, even worse food and smiles all over the place.

It was a date that ended on a roof under millions of stars, because they had no idea that PDA was forbidden on this planet, but they laughed and kissed again. 

They held hands until they had to go separate ways.

 

_ You know what's faster than the speed of light? My heart when I just think of you. _

 

Some moments were spent in silence, some talking about nothing in particular (obsessing over Keith’s mullet, Pidge being an annoying little shit and Hunks latest creation. Shenanigans of Lotor’s Generals, Ka’ain especially. That guy had a knack for getting into trouble and miraculously surviving, and with Ezor with him it was even worse. There had to be something good about having four arms and incredible flexibility. In both body and mind.)

Some moments were spent with awkward waiting until one of them broke and initiated a hug, a kiss, soft touches of fingers across sharp faces and around aging eyes. 

Some nights Lotor just held Lance close and listened to his heartbeat.

(Fluttering wings, just like a little, pretty bird and he craved this sound when the nights got cold and lonely on his ship.)

 

_ Hey boy, are you the sun? Because you’re the center of my universe. _

 

There was fury in Lotor’s eyes when they stopped. 

Lance was lying on the floor, eyes wide and open.

Gasping, shuddering breaths echoed through the room, myriads of eyes watching them until Lance tilted his head back.

An invitation.

(Giving up. For him. For him for him for him.)

The soldiers and druids fell faster than a card house in a hurricane, Ka’ain desperately shielding Lance from harm while Lotor hacked, slashed, absolutely obliterated his own people.

(Eyes on his goal, next target, next death. He prayed silently for their souls, sending them off to the afterlife. He would not pray for their forgiveness, he would not ask forgiveness for protecting his fated.)

When Keith rushed in, sword in the air, a cry on his lips, he found carnage. Dead bodies all over the place and Lotor carefully kissing Lance’s forehead, his unconscious teammate cradled in Ka’ain’s arms.

Lotor looked up, stared at him.

(Empty eyes, far too old for his young body. But they were all like this lately. Too old children stuck in a war they did not want to fight.)

“I won't be the one to kill him.” 

Less than a whisper, little more than a breath.

Keith nodded as he hoisted Lance into his arms, “I'll get him into a pod.”

 

_ Are you an alien? Because you abducted my heart long ago. _

 

There were a few weeks that they spend together, nights huddled together for warmth and days spend under the desert sun, desperately trying to find a semblance of shade under Blues shadow.

They were stranded.

And maybe Blue was still working just fine and she should have send a signal.

(Maybe she did. Just the wrong one.)

But they had reveled in those few moments of closeness, finally having the time to fight for the first time, even if it was about a stupid flirty remark Lance made that had annoyed Lotor.

They fought, they made up and they fell in love with the sheer power of the desert’s night sky.

(Later they found out that Ka’ain had begged the Paladins to let them stay together for a little bit longer, to give them those few moments of time and he had paid with information that, if this came out, would cost all of them their life.

Lotor was so very close to giving up right there and just joining the paladins, but he was a prince and he had responsibilities. And even if he didn’t understand or maybe even love his parents anymore, he loved his people and he would fight for them. Against the paladins and his fated if necessary. He was their prince.It was his duty. And he would gladly die for it. 

Because if the Voltron Coalition won? The Galra would never stand a chance. they would all die. 

And he could not let that happen.

So he fought.

He fought, he killed, he did his job.)

 

And Lance? Lance did his.

 

(Toxic pain in their chests and flowers blooming on arms, legs, dancing over scars and staying there. Lance got his first tattoo the day he got his first scar. He filled the ugly tissue with ink and colours, and every scar after this one. 

The scar of the wound that almost destroyed his spinal chord, he painted the moonphases over it, Blue’s paws over smaller wounds, sometimes even lyrics of songs that he cherished and missed.

And Lotor’s name, cheesy as it was, right over his heart. 

Lotor liked tracing them, the lines soft and elegant, the pictures as all over the place as his beloved, somewhat like a puzzle made of different sets, not quite fitting but it worked. An abstract work of art and it was his no matter what.

He was the bad guy, oh he knew that and despite all the manipulations and all the pain he caused the Paladins, Lance still loved him.

Lotor would never regret anything he did. 

He had his place in the world.

The only thing he wished for was more time and one chance for another life, where they could be together in peace.)

 

_ Hey boy, I’m not just going to show you the world, I’ll show you the universe. _


	9. Chapter 9

**The Ballad of Jeremiah Peacekeeper**

 

_ (A lover, a friend, a rival, an enemy. Soulmates are not always one thing. It could be a lot and the bond just a guideline but romance and love never really go by rules and after all this time they still struggle to comprehend just what they are. Lance whispers lovers. Lotor screams lovers. _

_ The world tells them “Enemies”.) _

 

_ They sit back to back, hidden away in the dark. _

_ They don’t talk, afraid that words would destroy the peace of the moment and ruin those last few seconds of peace. _

_ Lance is the first to move. He stretches, stands up, shudders, trembles, but he does not turn around to look at his beloved. _

_ They both look awful.  _

_ They both just… _

_ They just want all of this to stop. _

_ But this is war and they are too important to be left alone. Lance’s com screams for him and he puts on the helmet, still quiet, still breathing like he just stopped crying. The other line turns silent. _

_ Lotor gets back on his feet as well.  _

_ They stand back to back, one, two feet between them, but they still reach back, their fingers brush and that is it. _

_ This is their goodbye.  _

_ No words. _

_ No more empty promises. _

_ No more tears.  _

_ This is the last battle and they are on different sides and this is it. _

 

_ Lance only turns around when he is almost at the exit of the cave and their gazes meet for a second, yearning, longing, love shining through. And a certain kind of resignation. _

_ “I love you.” _

_ It sounds like a “Goodbye.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo.  
> This is it.  
> I just. I could not force myself to write a happy ending, it just never felt right.  
> Maybe in another life, maybe in anothier universe. But not here.  
> Here it's bittersweet and hopeful (I hope.) and it works for me.  
> Thank you for reading this.  
> (Zhigard? TasiWrites? Thanks for several comments in one stry, that kinda made my week.)  
> Maybe someday I might do a happily ever after, so 10 years later or a reincarnation thingy. Maybe. Who knows.
> 
> But yeah.
> 
> Zinae out.
> 
> (PS: In case no one noticed, I totally listened to the songs that are the titles. Everything is from Poets of the Fall and this Band is beauty personified. Especially the Balad of Jeremiah Peacekeeper.)


End file.
